


Loveless

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Bickering, Clone Sheev Palpatine, Clones, Crack Treated Seriously, Emperor Armitage Hux, Established Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, Jealousy, Knight Kylo Ren, M/M, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Sith Shenanigans, hux making poor decisions for X minuets straight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 16:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29474682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: When the First Order stumbles upon one of Palpatine’s secret cloning facilities, the newly crowned Emperor Hux sees an opportunity to solidify his position the old-fashioned way, by marriage.An Emperor Hux/Knight Kylo Ren AU.
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Sheev Palpatine
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22
Collections: Anonymous





	Loveless

“Where did you find him?” Hux finally spoke after a moment of awed silence, staring down at the pale creature strapped to the operating table. A boy, seemingly no older than Kylo himself, was hooked up to a ventilator, a thermal blanket draped over his small, spindly frame. The boy’s eyes were closed, his body eerily still except for the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Kylo’s own breathing sounded ragged in his ears, amplified by the vocoder as he stood frozen in place, observing from the shadows as the chief medical officer shuffled up beside the newly crowned Emperor Hux.

“On Tatooine, your Majesty,” the officer replied in a tight voice, glancing nervously at Kylo from the corner of his eye. “The Emperor -- ah, the _late_ Emperor, that is -- had a secret underground facility in the southernmost region. A mining crew stumbled upon it by accident. Luckily we had an excavation team in the area…”

Hux tore his gaze away from the boy and straightened up to his full height, turning stiffly to face the officer, his hands twitching at his sides. “And what sort of facility would that be?” He asked, although he already knew the answer to this question. The excavation crew had filed their report late last evening. Hux had spent a sleepless night pouring over the details, arguing back and forth with his advisors, Kylo among them.

“A cloning facility, your Majesty,” the medical officer replied carefully.

Hux gave a sharp nod. “I see.” There was a long, tense pause. The Emperor shifted in place, his sleekly polished boots squeaking on the tiled floor. “And this specimen here,” he began to say, his eyes flitting to the boy, the _clone_ in question. He opened his mouth, but the words died on his lips.

“Yes?” The medical officer prompted him.

Hux reached up to loosen the high, stiff collar of his greatcoat. He cleared his throat, pitching his voice dangerously low. “Was this the only one, or were there others?”

“This was the only one, your Majesty. The others were already dead when we found them.”

“But there _were_ others? Like this one?”

The officer nodded, stuttering, “Y-yes, but as I said--“

“They were dead when you found them, yes, yes,” Hux cut him off with a wave. “And you’re quite certain, I take it, that this is a clone of _you know who_?” He broke off in a growl, unable or unwilling to speak the name aloud.

The officer nodded again, licking the sweat from his upper lip, “An exact genetic replica, according to old Imperial records--“

“Did you do a blood test?” Kylo demanded roughly, his words crackling through his helmet with a burst of static. He lurched forward, startling the doctor with his sudden movement. ”What’s his midi-chlorian count?” His voice shook slightly, and he began to sweat beneath the overhead light, gripping the hilt of his saber beneath his cloak. His fingers itched to ignite the blade, kill the boy and be done with it. He’d already disposed of Snoke, and he was not about to let another dark-sider take over, not when things had finally begun to stabilize.

“Abnormally low,” the officer replied, surprised by the question. “He’s a Force-null, if that’s what you’re asking. He’s a clone, after all.“

Hux sighed in relief, glancing over his shoulder. There was a curious look in his eyes as he peered at Kylo. The Emperor only ever deferred to Kylo’s judgment in matters concerning the Force.

The Knight held his silence. He shot Hux a subtle warning through the Force, then turned his attention back towards the _thing_ on the bed. He was frowning behind his mask, his brow heavy and shadowed with dark thoughts.

Even without the Force, a young Sheev Palpatine would inevitably prove a threat to Hux’s rule, to his claim as Emperor. There were too many stuffy old die-hard Imperials within their ranks, men like Enric Pryde who were fanatically devoted to the long dead Emperor. Kylo knew the officers held no such love for Hux or himself.

Hux knew it too.

Last night, after reading the report by the excavation team, the Emperor had flown into a panicked rage. His first instinct had been to send Kylo to wipe out whatever “genetic abominations” might be lurking inside the cloning facility, unwilling to suffer any potential rival. But he stubbornly changed his mind at the last moment, and so now here they were, on a secret medical station in Arkanis space. Kylo had already threatened to cut the officer’s tongue out if he so much as breathed a word of the clone’s existence.

“Has he said anything?” Hux asked idly, gesturing to the clone.

“Not to my knowledge, your Majesty. The patient does not have full use of his facilities, as you can see. It will be some time before--“

“How old is he?” The Emperor interrupted, reaching out a gloved hand to brush aside the boy’s red hair, recently and unevenly cut at the chin. It curled in waves around his face, a duller shade of orange, more understated than the Emperor’s own brilliant coloring.

“Difficult to say. To my understanding, clones typically age at a different rate, and this one has been in stasis for who knows how long. Several decades at least.”

Hux threw his head back, tilting his chin to stare down the length of his nose. He shot the medical officer a final haughty glance. “I would speak with him before I make my decision.”

But he had already made up his mind by the time they returned to the ship.

“I’m going to marry him,” he purred in Kylo’s ear, just as the other man had been about the fall asleep. The mattress dipped as he shifted closer, draping his long slender frame over the larger body beneath him.

Kylo was sprawled out on his stomach, naked and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He didn’t respond at first, not even when the Emperor began to lazily rock his hips.

“Mmm, did I tire you out?” He teased, nuzzling behind Kylo’s ear, nipping at his jaw.

Kylo shoved him off, annoyed. He rolled over and propped himself up on his elbow, his brow furrowed in confusion as he struggled to make sense of Hux’s original statement.

“Who?” He rasped, his throat still sore from earlier. His lips were chaffed and swollen, and he could still taste Hux on the back of his tongue.

The Emperor leaned back with a sigh, propping himself against the headboard. He was dressed in his plain silk pajama bottoms, but his chest was bare and flushed from his recent shower. “The clone,” he said, smirking viciously at Kylo’s expression of shock. “I love it when you look at me like that you big, dumb animal.”

Kylo blinked, snapping his mouth shut. He tried to think, to rationalize what he was hearing, but his mind was still half asleep. “What are you talking about?” He grumbled.

“The clone,” Hux repeated more firmly. “I’m going to marry him.”

“I heard you!” Kylo had to keep himself from shouting. Suddenly he was on his feet, wide awake. He whirled around to face the Emperor, who met his intense gaze with a stern, unflinching expression, his soft pink lips pressed in a thin line.

Kriff, Hux was serious.

They stared at one another, when the Emperor finally broke the heated silence. “Not jealous, are you?” Tilting his head to observe Kylo from the side of his eye.

Kylo seethed. Of all the stupid questions.

“ _No_ ,” he bit out. Hux was the more possessive of the two, and truth be told, Kylo didn’t even like the man that much, or so he told himself. 

The Emperor narrowed his gaze. “It would be a political marriage, obviously,” he continued with a faint huff, an angry blush staining his pale cheeks.

“A political marriage,” Kylo repeated flatly.

Hux sputtered for a moment, opening and closing his mouth. “Don’t you see?” He finally exclaimed, almost choking on his desperation to get his point across. “No one would question my legitimacy to the throne. If I marry a Palpatine--“

“You mean the _clone_?” Kylo interrupted, sneering in disgust. He raked a hand through his hair, turning away in time to see Hux flinch.

“No one has to know he’s a clone. We’ll say he’s a long-lost grandson-- or nephew.”

“Yeah, except he isn’t,” Kylo growled low in his throat, screwing his eyes shut, barely repressing a shiver as the sweat on his skin began to dry, a chill creeping down his spine. He almost reached for his robe. “He’s a clone of the Emperor. Darth Sidious.”

He could feel Hux glaring at the back of his head. “Oh, stop with all that _Darth_ nonsense. Besides, you heard what the doctor said. Even if Palpatine was Force-Sensitive--”

“He was. Luke said--“

“Oh, so now we’re trusting what Luke says?”

“Go ask Pryde or one of the other generals,” Kylo shot back, still refusing to look at Hux. “They all say the same thing. The Emperor was a Force-Sensitive.”

“They don’t know that, those were just rumors,” Hux snapped. “And I am the Emperor, not him,” his voice shrill with anger.

“Look.” Kylo turned to face Hux, who was panting softly, his skin mottled a deep red. “If Sidious was cloning himself, he obviously had a reason.” He paused, listening as the Emperor’s breathing slowly evened out.

Hux wetted his lips. “Yes, well,” he sighed, slicking his hair back, tucking a wayward strand behind his ear, “whatever his plan, I doubt it involved getting tossed down a reactor shaft.” He glanced up, shooting Kylo a dark look.

The issue of Palpatine’s death was always a touchy subject, but Kylo refused to rise to the bait. Clenching his jaw, his words came out stilted, “You’re not seriously considering going through with this?” His body swayed slightly, tilting towards the bed, but Kylo remained on his feet, towering over the seated figure of the Emperor.

Hux stared up at him, his mouth set in a grim line. He swallowed tightly. “I am,” haughty and determined. 

As if to prove a point, Hux arranged another visit to the medical station, this time accompanied by his personal guard, leaving Kylo to brood on the ship. A few days had passed since his last visit, but the clone was still unresponsive, or so Hux reported upon his return. The Emperor was obviously frustrated by this -- _“I can’t very well marry a vegetable, can I?” --_ but Kylo was secretly relieved.

“He -- _it_ \-- was in stasis for a long time. Who knows. It might never wake up,” Kylo commented on the subject, trying not to sound too hopeful.

The Emperor ceased his pacing for a moment. “The doctor said he would keep me informed of the clone’s progress over the coming weeks.”

But as the weeks stretched on into months, Kylo began to put the clone out of his mind. He stubbornly refused to ask for updates on the clone’s progress, and the Emperor didn’t seem inclined to speak on the subject. Although he had, inexplicably, taken a strange interest in the planet Naboo. Kylo had even caught him reading a Naboo language instructional manual in bed.

“Why are you so obsessed with Naboo?” Kylo finally burst when the Emperor had begun to pester him about his Naboo heritage.

“Just curious.”

But the Emperor’s curiosity didn’t stop there. He sent his personal attendants to Theed to begin compiling a new wardrobe of civilian attire, cut and tailored in the Naboo style, a far cry from his usual military dress. Kylo had teased him mercifully, pawing through a rack of silk floral blouses.

“Don’t touch those, you brute. You’ll tear the buttons.”

Kylo ignored him. “Aren’t these a bit small for you?” He asked, holding up a delicate pair of jeweled slippers.

“Those aren’t for me,” Hux gritted.

Kylo paused. “Then who are they for?”

His question was answered the next day. When Kylo entered the throne room, he happened on a familiar scene. The Emperor was seated upon the raised dais, dressed in his usual trappings of office. He was conversing with one of his supplicants, a foreign dignitary by the look of him, standing demurely off to the side.

Kylo barely spared the young man a second glance, and he was almost to the far side of the room when Hux stopped him in his tracks: “My Lord Ren.” The Emperor only ever called him ‘Lord Ren’ in front of important guests. “There’s someone here I want you to meet.”

The Emperor gestured for the young dignitary to step forward, reaching out to grasp his hand. Kylo was struck by the intimacy of the gesture. He growled under his breath, his vocoder rumbling as he stormed up the stairs two at a time. The boy shrank back at his thunderous approach, grabbing Hux by the sleeve. 

“Take that helmet off, you’re frightening him,” the Emperor snapped over his shoulder, turning his back to Kylo to fuss over his guest.

Kylo refused. He didn’t want to admit it, but the appearance of this boy unnerved him for reasons he couldn’t explain. He didn’t seem threatening. In fact he made Hux appear large and imposing by comparison.

“Who are you?” Kylo barked at him, his skin prickling beneath the boy’s fixed, glassy stare. His eyes were a watery pale blue. Empty, cold.

The Emperor introduced them, “Kylo, you remember Sheev.”

The boy blinked slowly, turning his head at the sound of his name.

_Sheev_?

Kylo grunted as if punched in the gut. _Idiot_. He should’ve recognized him. With his hair tied back, the boy’s profile was unmistakable. The arched nose, the cleft chin. Kylo had studied the holotapes. The face of Emperor Palpatine had been burned in his mind as a child. Sidious, Darth Vader’s master, and supreme ruler of the galaxy…

No. Kylo shook himself. This wasn’t the same man. Not a man at all, just a clone.

“What’s wrong with him?” He snarled, his voice loud and thick with hostility. “Can’t he speak?”

“He doesn’t understand much Basic,” came the smooth reply as Hux finally favored Kylo with a glance. “But he has been taught to read and write High Nubian, as per my instruction. His sire was born on Naboo, after all. It seemed only fitting-- and, I must say, far more exotic.”

“Exotic?” Kylo spat the word, exhaling a sharp breath. “You make it sound like... He’s not a pet, Hux. He’s a clone--“

“I know what he is!” The Emperor shrieked, green eyes bright with fury. He took a split second to compose himself, then pointed a finger at Kylo. “You are not to speak of that again. As far as anyone’s concerned, this is Sheev Palpatine, grandson of the late Emperor Palpatine. Isn’t that right, _Sheev_?”

The boy hesitated before murmuring a few words in his own language, shifting his gaze between Kylo and Hux as he spoke.

Hux let out a soft, hapless sigh. “I can’t understand what you’re saying, dear. But it does sound lovely.” He caught the boy’s hand again. “I suppose I’ll have to teach you Basic sooner or later, but I rather like you like this.” 

“Does he even know who you are?” Kylo said, sneering as Hux pressed a chaste kiss the boy’s knuckles. Anyone else would have been flattered by the Emperor’s attention, but the clone didn’t even blink, his face a smooth mask of indifference.

“Of course he knows,” the Emperor said, tutting lightly.

Kylo ground his teeth, resigned to the fact that the clone was here to stay. “And how does he feel about all this?” He swept out an arm, gesturing around the throne room.

“You’re the mind reader, you tell me.”

Kylo had been trying for some time, but he couldn’t sense anything from the boy. Not a thought, not a feeling. His presence was a cold black spot in the Force. It felt empty.

Wrong.

“He’s like a doll,” the Emperor said, quite astutely.

Kylo found himself grunting in agreement. But whereas Hux seemed to find this quality charming, Kylo found it disturbing. The glassy eyes, the stilted mannerisms. He’d met droids with more personality than this boy.

“Speaking of dolls,” the Emperor carried on, oblivious or indifferent to Kylo’s misgivings, “I’d like Sheev to try on some of the clothes I ordered for him. I have his measurements, but still. Tailoring is hardly an exact silence.” He hummed thoughtfully, “But I suppose that can wait a bit.” Hux looked the boy up and down with a shrewd eye. “You must be very tired after your long journey.” His voice took on a faint condescending tone. “Why don’t I show you to your rooms and let you get settled in?”

Kylo stood back as Hux led the boy down the stairs, pulling him along by the hand, towards the grand entryway. The clone had to hurry to keep up with the Emperor’s much longer strides. He stumbled once or twice, unsteady on his feet. When they were nearly at the door, Hux paused to say something, gesticulating as he spoke. The boy glanced over his shoulder midway through the Emperor’s speech. Kylo met his gaze from across the room. To his surprise, the boy’s lips twitched upwards in a small smile.

They were standing at a distance, but Kylo thought he saw _something_ flicker in those pale eyes, an emotion he couldn’t quite place. The image stayed with him, even as the boy slipped through the door and out of sight. In hindsight, he realized the boy had been mocking him.

That night he dreamed of cold echoing laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> I don’t know where this idea came from, but It popped into my head and now I kind of want to see where it goes.


End file.
